


to luck (we bow humbly)

by red0aktree



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Like really minor, M/M, Minor Character Death, Pre-Slash, barely mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 18:46:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6670477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red0aktree/pseuds/red0aktree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard is desperately in search of a good luck charm (he's tried rabbit's feet and four leaf clovers already). Jared doesn't believe much in luck at all. </p><p>Funnily enough, luck winds up mattering very little to the two idiots in love. </p><p>Featuring: An overworked Jared Dunn, a surprisingly calm Richard Hendricks, and Big Head on a yacht.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to luck (we bow humbly)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work in the SV fandom and am excited to be a part of the group! I hope I do our boys justice! 
> 
> For Elijah, as always, because fanfiction dedications are how I show affection <3

> “we were told never to put   
>  our faith in you   
>  to bow to you humbly after all   
>  because in the end there was nothing  
>  else we could do  
>  but not to believe in you”
> 
> -Excerpt of ‘ [ To Luck ](http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/detail/41355) ’ by W.S. Merwin

 

Richard’s mother carried a single domino in her purse. She won it in a game against her friends when she was sixteen, and hadn’t let it go since. When Richard asked her about it at age seven she simply said, “It’s a good luck charm, Richard. Everyone needs a good luck charm.”

Richard, who unfortunately failed his spelling test earlier that day and was feeling quite down on himself, decided that once he found his good luck charm everything would go his way.

Richard soon found that dominoes aren’t  _ everyone’s  _ lucky charms. Neither are four leaf clovers, nor rabbit’s feet.

At sixteen, when Richard crashed his father’s Subaru, Richard realized that the pebble in his backpack wasn’t his charm either.

At twenty-one when Big Head pointed at the wrinkled arcade entrance wristband dangling from Richard’s wrist and said, “Why are you still wearing that?” Richard realized what he’d been realizing since he was seven. Richard started to think that maybe he didn’t have a lucky charm.

-

Jared didn’t believe in bad luck. When his mother died, and his uncle abandoned him, and his foster father lost his job Jared didn’t amount it to bad luck. He amounted it to bad genetics, lack of patience, and a poor job market. 

Jared didn’t believe in  _ good  _ luck, either. He didn’t have a job and a car and apartment because he was  _ lucky _ , he had it because he worked hard and strove for it.

It wasn’t that Jared looked down on people who  _ did  _ believe in luck, however. He had just learned long ago not to get his hopes up that way.

-

Richard met Jared on the luckiest day of his life.

In that moment, everything felt like it could have been his lucky charm. The keys in his pocket or the receipt in his wallet. Richard didn’t want anything to change, wanted to relive this day for the rest of his life.

Unfortunately, Richard’s luckiest day ended up being a turning point that lead to him puking in a garbage can, and was followed some of the lowest days in his life. It seemed that yet again Richard’s charms had let him down.

-

“I can’t make it today, Jared. Something… came up. Can’t you just go in my place?”

“Well, yes, that  _ is  _ an option.”

Richard didn’t need to see Jared to know that he had a disappointed pull to his lips, that he was standing with hunched shoulders and a nervous disposition. Richard has let Jared down enough times to know what it looked like.

“I’d do it myself if I could,” Richard assured, shifting his phone from one ear to the other as he climbed into the passenger seat of Monica’s car. “You’re better at talking to people than I am, anyway. Meetings run much smoother when you’re the one in them.”

Monica eyed Richard with a critical gaze. Richard turned away as he waited for Jared’s response.

“Well, if you’re sure about this… I’m sure I could stand in for you this once. I’ll call you if anything unusual arises.”

“Thanks Jared,” Richard cheered. “I owe you one.”

Monica had already started the drive toward the charity event the two of them were to attend on Peter Gregory’s behalf. Richard wasn’t technically invited, but Monica had asked him as her plus-one. Richard intentionally didn’t mention where he was heading to Jared, he’d only feel left out if he knew. Besides, Jared could handle a meeting about office expansion. He knew the industry better than Richard, anyway.

“You play to his vanity,” Monica commented, offhandedly, distracted as she pulled into traffic.

“Who’s? Jared’s?”

“Yeah,” Monica chuckled, as if there couldn’t be anyone else they could be discussing. 

“Jared isn’t vain. He’s like, the most humble person I know.”

“But you tell him he’s special so he’ll do what you want. I know you’re game, Richard. I’m onto you.”

Monica was only teasing, and Richard brushed her words aside, basking in the glory of being able to joke with someone as lovely as her.

-

Against his better judgement, Jared felt lucky to be able to work beside Richard. He was uncertain, definitely, and more than a bit lost. But he had a good heart, and a brilliant mind, and remained one of the most inspiring people Jared had ever met.

In spite of all of his devotion, though, Jared often found himself exhausted by the life he had found himself thrown into at Pied Piper.

-

“I can’t do this all myself, Richard.”

“Sure you can, you’ve done it before.”

“Rich--”

“Jared, look, I’ve got to take this phone call. If you need help, ask Gilfoyle. I’ll talk to you later.”

Richard turned away. Jared lowered his folder, sighing at the workload ahead of him. He didn’t ask Gilfoyle for help. He didn’t ask anyone anything.

-

Monica called one evening to tell Richard that she had been foolish to lead him on. He was a great person, but not her type. Richard would be lying if he said he didn’t see it coming.

The next morning Richard threw away the tiny copper beehive he had been carrying around. Turns out, beehives weren’t Richard’s good luck charm, either.

-

Richard quickly learned that shooting the cork out of a champagne bottle is much more difficult than it looked in the movies. He also learned that he didn’t care much for champagne. It didn’t matter, though, because it was a celebration, and shooting corks out of gross champagne bottles is part of the process.

Erlich slid his champagne flute toward Richard, encouraging him to pour another glass. Richard did as instructed, spilling a few errant droplets on the countertop. Champagne probably didn’t belong amongst the filth of the Hacker Hostel anyway.

“Where’s Jared?” Erlich asked.

“Over there,” Richard gestured toward the sea of desks. Jared stood alone, a champagne glass looking tiny in his huge hands.

“Typical. Doesn’t come to work all day, but shows up for the party.”

“Jared really hasn’t shown up for many parties, like, at all,” Richard defended half-heartedly.

“And it shows,” Erlich changed the direction of his argument without hesitation. “Look at him, standing alone at a company function. So much for camaraderie.”

Richard chuckled, but stopped when Jared caught his eye. Jared shot him a nervous smile, which Richard returned before waving Jared over toward himself and Erlich. Erlich made a noise of displeasure but didn’t leave.

“Richard,” Jared greeted as he came to stand beside the pair. “Are you having a nice night?”

“Definitely,” Richard assured, though it was almost a lie. “What about you?”

“Small talk,” Erlich interrupted. “You two are  _ disgusting _ .”

“Is there something you’d rather talk about?” Jared asked, voice timid and kind like always.

“Where were you earlier?” Erlich interrogated, fixing Jared with an accusing stare. “You weren’t here, helping figure all this TechCrunch shit out.”

“Oh,” Jared let out a tiny gasp. “I had a family emergency. I’m terribly sorry…”

Erlich and Richard exchanged a curious glance. Neither expected Jared’s explanation. Neither expected Jared to have a family at all.

“Well, be more considerate next time,” Erlich commanded, but his voice has lost all fervor. He stepped away awkwardly, joining Monica and Denesh in conversation and leaving Richard and Jared alone.

“Is everything… alright?” Richard asked, shifting nervously from foot to foot. He studied his glass, refusing to meet Jared’s bright eyes.

“Yes. Well… No, but there’s nothing that can be done, so you needn’t worry.”

“Oh.”

“Thank you for asking, Richard.” Jared spoke so kindly, his voice so pleased it verged on affectionate. Richard glanced up and nodded once.

“More champagne?” Richard asked. Jared nodded. They didn’t talk about family for the rest of the night.

-

Jared’s uncle’s death wasn’t a stroke of bad luck. It was, however, a stroke of a different sort. They weren’t close, but Jared couldn’t shake the dark feelings that came with the realization that he no longer had any living kin.

-

Richard lay awake for over an hour before huffing out a breath and grabbing his phone from the far side of his mattress. He typed out a quick message, wondering if Jared was even awake at this time to receive it. It was far past midnight by now.

**To: Jared  
** **Hey, sorry I know it’s late, but I just wanted to apologize for the way Erlich treated you today. It’s not your fault you had family shit.**

Erlich had always been unnecessarily cruel to Jared. Richard never understood it, nor did he particularly care, but something about the way Erlich had spoken to Jared today made Richard’s skin crawl. The notification beep on Richard’s phone took him by surprise, and he quickly unlocked his phone.

**From: Jared  
** **I appreciate it, Richard, but you don’t have to apologize for Erlich’s behaviour :)**

Taken aback by the use of the smiley face, Richard huffed out a laugh before tapping out a response. He hesitated, reading the message twice over.

**To: Jared  
** **Well, I'm still sorry. And I just wanted to double check that everything is okay with your family situation…? If you need anything, I’m here to help.**

Richard held his breath after hitting the send button. Just as his chest began to ache with nerves, a tiny icon appeared beside his message. It had failed to send. Richard considered the network failure a sign, and quickly deleted the original message. The message he sent instead simply read:

**To: Jared  
** **Okay.**

-

When Jared found himself trapped alone on an island populated only by robot fork lifts, he considered, at least briefly, that maybe he was a  _ bit  _ unlucky.

-

“What do you think of Jared,” Richard asked Big Head one evening over dinner. Despite their separate employment they still made an effort to see one another, and tonight they were exchanging corporate horror stories over steak and cocktails.

“Jared Dunn?” Big Head asked, sipping his rum and Coke.

“Do we know any other Jared’s?”

“I think he’s alright. Kind of weird. His eyes scare me.”

“Yeah,” Richard laughed. “They’re intense.”

“Why?” Big Head didn’t seem the least bit accusing or concerned. He was simply curious. Richard appreciated his lack of judgement.

“I just feel like the rest of the gang is irrational about him. Erlich hates him, and I don’t know why. He’s a decent guy.”

“I never had a problem with him. He seems nice, and if you like him then I like him. Erlich just hates everyone.”

“If I  _ like  _ him?” Richard asked, suspicious. He thought Jared was alright, but there was nothing more there. He was a decent looking guy, and the only man Richard had ever been with  _ did  _ have a similar anxious demeanor to Jared… But there was nothing there, really.

“Yeah, I mean, if he’s your friend I’m cool with that. We could invite him out for drinks or something next time we go.”

“Oh,” Richard leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, I guess we’re friends.”

“Right on,” Big Head shrugged. “Let’s take him with us next time we do this.”

Richard smiled, mostly to himself. Just because Elrich disliked someone didn’t mean the whole group had to.

-

Bored and despondent one evening Richard bounced a poker chip he found on the counter and it landed directly in the glass he had been drinking out of. Jared, who had been standing in the kitchen let out a tiny gasp of excitement.

“Nice shot, Richard,” Jared cheered. Richard grinned.

He pocketed the chip. He told himself nothing else would go wrong for the rest of his life, he’d found his lucky charm.

(He’d told himself that plenty of times before, but he didn’t think about that.)

-

**From: Big Head <** [ nelson.bighetti@hoolimail.com ](mailto:nelson.bighetti@hoolimail.com) **>  
** **To: Richard Hendricks <** [ richardhendricks@gmail.com ](mailto:richard.hendricks@gmail.com) **>**

**Rich,**

**Big plans this weekend, man! One of my friends from Hooli is having a shindig and you should come with me. Formal dress, wear something nice. Also, open bar, so that’s cool. I attached the details.**

**Oh, and you should invite Jared, too.**

**Let me know what you think.**

-

**From: Richard Hendricks <** [ richardhendricks@gmail.com ](mailto:richard.hendricks@gmail.com) **>  
** **To: Big Head <** [ nelson.bighetti@hoolimail.com ](mailto:nelson.bighetti@hoolimail.com) **> , Jared Dunn <** [ jared.dunn@gmail.com ](mailto:jareddunn@gmail.com) **>**

**Sounds great, I’ll be there! Jared, you in?**

-

At first Jared thought the email was a stroke of good luck. Then, he questioned why Richard would be inviting him to a party at all. Jared then decided he was the butt of some cruel joke and rushed off to Richard’s room to confront him.

“Did you mean to send this to me?” Jared asked after he burst into the room, phone outstretched to display the email. 

“Yeah, did you not… read it?” Richard asked from where he sat at his desk, headphones around his neck. “I address you directly by name. So did Big Head. How could you think--”

“I meant are you sure about this?”

“Well, yeah. Why shouldn’t I be?”

Jared hesitated a moment, eyes darting around Richard’s room. He opened his mouth to speak, then slammed it shut. His nervous, aborted movement struck something comical inside Richard and he found himself erupting into laughter. Jared’s panic only increased.

“I’m not laughing at you,” Richard choked. “I’m just, of course you’re invited Jared. We’re friends, friends invite friends to parties. You don’t need to look so nervous.”

“I’m not…  _ nervous… _ ” Jared said slowly, his face splitting into a grin. He liked watching Richard laugh, and hearing him say they were friends brought joy he wasn’t sure he knew how to feel. “I’ll be happy to accompany you.”

“Good. I’ll let Big Head know he can expect both of us.”

-

Jared liked drinking very much.

People were often surprised by this, as he had a conservative and reserved demeanor. Jared liked being professional, and often felt that drinking copious amounts was inappropriate in many situations. However, at a giant yacht party like the one he found himself at with Richard and Big Head, he felt drinking was the ideal activity.

“Rum and Coke is your favorite, too?” Big Head asked, grinning as he spoke to Jared. Jared nodded once, shortly, hodding his glass in hand.

“Actually, rum and Dr. Pepper is my favorite. But Coke works, too.”

“I didn’t even think you drank enough to  _ have  _ a favorite drink,” Richard teased.

“I’m thirty. Of course I drink.”

Big Head barked out a laugh, bumping his shoulder against Jared’s companionably before wandering away in search of a refill for his (now empty) rum and Coke. Jared turned to Richard in Big Head’s absence, looking content and calm in a way Richard hadn’t ever seen before.

“I think drinking is good for you, man. You seem way more relaxed than usual.”

“I do have very high stress levels. One of my foster mom’s used to say I would go gray by twenty five.”

“Well,” Richard glanced at Jared’s dark hair, looking him over once, “I mean. Good thing you didn’t.”

Jared chuckled, a high and breathy sound. Richard laughed as well, intoxicated by how uncharacteristic the noise was. After a moment they were laughing at nothing but each other.

Richard turned after a moment, briefly searching out Big Head. He seemed to have gotten distracted, chatting to a young woman beside the bar. Jared followed Richard’s gaze and softly said, “I quite like Nelson.”

“Yeah, he’s alright,” Richard snorted. “I can’t really imagine life without him at this point. We’ve been friends a long time.”

“I realize,” Jared nodded, “He means a lot to you. I remember the day I told you to fire him. No good.”

“Yeah…” Richard considered a moment, thinking back to the details of that day. “I kind of freaked out. I should probably apologize for some of what I said.”

“I don’t think you should apologize. I think back on that event a lot. It was quite… exhilarating.”

Richard didn’t respond, just watched Jared with a raised eyebrow. He rolled his glass in his delicate hands for a moment before continuing.

“I’ve never seen anyone stand up for a friend the way you did. I can’t help but wondering if anyone would stand up for me that way.”

“Oh,” Richard inhaled, “Um…”

“I didn’t mean it like-- I wasn’t…  _ hinting _ at anything. I’m sorry. That sounded presumptuous of me,” Jared looked away nervously, a motion that was unexpected of Jared, who seemed to value direct eye contact over all social normality. “I just meant that you and Nelson are great friends, and I hope to someday have what you have.”

Richard wanted to ask, ‘ _ With anyone, or just me? _ ’ but he stayed quiet. Richard was pretty sure he knew the answer. When Richard thought of Jared it was hard not to think of the other man’s blind devotion, of his absolute dedication to Richard and Pied Piper. It was hard to imagine there was anyone in the world Jared wanted to be closer to than Richard.

Richard didn’t respond, just leaned against the rail of the yacht and studied the soft swell of the sea, the rhythm of the waves. Jared made a tiny noise of distress, placing his elbows on the railing and dropping his head, looking straight down at the black water.

“I hope I didn’t make things awkward by that statement,” Jared sighed. “I have a habit of doing that.”

“You didn’t,” Richard assured. “It’s just… I hope you have that someday, too. Everyone deserves someone who will stand up for them.”

Jared tipped his head, watching Richard out of the corner of his light eyes. He quirked his lips up into a crooked half-smile before returning his gaze to the water. Richard followed his example and neither spoke.

Underneath the calm moonlight, alongside a meek man who gave more than he took, Richard considered for a moment that maybe he was just as guilty of taking advantage of Jared as the rest of them. He had cowered behind Jared’s words dozens of times before, letting Jared defend him in the face of friends and enemies alike, but he rarely repaid the favor.

Underneath that same moonlight Jared considered how fortunate he was to exist at the same time as Richard Hendricks.

-

“Fuck Hoolie, and fuck Gavin Belson. He can’t just snap his fingers and make our lives a living Hell.”

“Well, technically, he can,” Dinesh interrupted. “He just did.”

“We need servers, Richard. There’s no company if there’s no servers,” Gilfoyle added.

Richard ran his fingers through his hair in distress, letting out a deep sigh and spinning on his heels. He muttered something about needing a breather and stumbled into the backyard. For a moment there was complete silence but Richard didn’t feel anywhere near peace. He sighed again, staring at the still water of the pool and considering his options.

“Richard?” A soft voice asked from the door. Richard didn’t need to turn around to know that Jared was standing passively at by the sliding glass, possibly wringing his hands or hunching his shoulders. “Are you alright?”

“No, Jared, I’m not alright. But unless you have some revolutionary idea, I suggest you go back inside. I don’t want to hear more pity.”

“I’m not here to pity you,” Jared sounded dejected at Richard’s very suggestions. “I’m here to listen if you want to talk through everything.”

“I don’t know how to talk through it, Jared,” Richard huffed, turning to face Jared. “It’s just one thing after another, you know?”

“This is fixable though. It’s just a bit of bad luck, it will pass.” Jared’s spoke so calm and softly, but even the serenity of his voice could quell the anger that welled inside of Richard.

“ _ Bad luck _ ,” Richard snorted. “Yeah, that’s exactly what it is.” Richard dug in his pocket, searching out the poker chip that he still carried. “Exactly what it fucking is. At this point I don’t think I even remember what  _ good  _ luck feels like.”

The poker chip bounced on the cement as Richard threw it down with as much force as he could manage. Jared tracked the movement, completely perplexed by the fact that Richard had had the chip in his pocket at all.

“Where you… gambling recently?”

“No,” Richard huffed. “It’s a good luck charm. That didn’t work. Just like all the other good luck charms I’ve tried in my life.”

“Well, you can’t expect a good luck charm to work  _ all  _ of the time, Richard,” Jared bent a picked up the chip, turning it over in his slender fingers. “Nothing works all of the time.”

“Well it doesn’t even work some of the time. My whole life has been bad fucking luck.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Jared said quickly, taking a step toward Richard. He closed his hand around the chip. “And I don’t think that you think so either, even if you feel like you do right now.”

“How could I not, Jared? How am I supposed to think I have any good luck when this kind of shit just keeps happening to me?”

“Well, you have great friends, and a brilliant mind, and a hopeful business. Those didn’t come from bad luck. And, well...” Jared hesitated a moment, glancing briefly to the ground before looking back at Richard unflinchingly. “I like to think that you don’t think of meeting me as an act of bad luck.”

“No,” Richard said immediately. “No, I don’t think that at all, Jared. You’re… You’re not bad luck. You’re just about the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

“Oh,” Jared gasped. He stood tall, his spine ramrod straight and his head held high, but his hands were trembling. Richard took a step forward, then froze. He wasn’t sure if he had offended Jared, or perhaps come on too strongly. Jared’s face showed only shock, and Richard was unsure if that was a positive emotion or not.

“Look, I didn’t--”

Richard’s half formed apology was cut short by Jared’s quick and conscious movement. He crossed the distance between them in two long strides and threw his arms around Richard’s neck. Jared’s tall form folded around Richard, enveloping him in a hug that was very different from the one they shared at TechCrunch. Where that one had been rushed and had taken them both by surprise, this one was deliberate and compassionate.

Richard slowly raised his arms and encircled them around Jared’s ribcage. He could feel Jared’s pointed nose pressed against the crook of his shoulder, his hands wide across Richard’s thin shoulders. It felt nice and comforting in a way Richard hadn’t expected.

They stayed that way for several moments in silence. When Jared finally spoke, he only whispered, “Thank you.”

-

When Richard was eight, and fed up after a year of not finding his good luck charm, he sought out his mother one evening. He found her at the kitchen table, sorting through mail that had become cluttered on their countertops.

“Mom,” Richard began. “You know how you carry your domino?”

“Yes,” his mother said without looking up.

“Well, does everyone have a good luck charm?”

“Yep. Everyone.” Richard’s mother beckoned him closer, pulling out the chair beside her. “They just have to find it.”

“Is it an object?” Richard asked as he sat beside his mother. Even as a child he was curious about the world, didn’t settle unless he knew everything he could.

“Doesn’t have to be.”

“Can it be a pet?” Richard had recently been allowed his first goldfish, and was feeling pretty confident about the whole thing.

“Yes.”

“A person?” Maybe his good luck charm was his mother.

“It can be a person,” his mother sighed. She knew this conversation could be endless, and in truth she didn’t have the answers. There were no answers. “It’s anything that makes you feel on top of the world, sweetheart. You’ll know when you find it.”

-

“Well, maybe if people stopped relying on  _ me  _ for everything more  _ shit  _ would get done around here!”

Jared’s voice echoed through the room. No one was prepared for his outburst, least of all Gilfoyle who had been the one complaining to Jared about their lack of an updated budget. His words were harsher than he intended, and Jared prefered not to swear when he could avoid it, but he didn’t go back on what he said. He simply kept his eyes trained on Gilfoyle, waiting for a response.

“Sorry dude, but budget is your deal,” was what Gilfoyle chose to respond with after several moments. Everyone, including the speaker himself, knew that was the exact wrong response.

Jared huffed out an angry breath and stormed from the room. His usually slumped and unimpressive posture was now imposing, each member of the Hacker Hostel coming to realize just how tall and potentially striking Jared could be. He slammed the front door behind him.

“Your guard dog is throwing a tantrum,” Erlich said after a moment, rounding on Richard. “I don’t like it.”

“He isn’t-- why is he my guard dog?” Richard asked in exasperation. “Also, no shit he’s throwing a tantrum. We overload him with work all the time.”

“You’re taking his side?” Dinesh asked.

“Well, yeah, he’s right. We rely on Jared for  _ a lot _ .”

“Then he should tell us that. Not just explode,” Erlich said.

Richard let out a deep sigh, rubbing his hands over his face. He pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply. Just as he lowered his hand to speak again, Erlich interrupted.

“Look, Richard, yeah, we ask a lot of the weird fucker. And I’m sorry if he feels stressed out or whatever. But that’s not our deal.”

“Well someone needs to help him out,” Richard argued.

“Yeah, and that someone has to be you,” Erlich said.

“Erlich is right,” Gilfoyle added. “You’re literally the only person here who cares about him.”

“That’s not only incredibly rude, but also untrue I’m pretty sure,” Richard said. He hoped it was untrue at least. Jared deserved better than that.

“It’s partially true,” Erlich said. “He isn’t here because of us, he’s here for you. And if all of us have to put up with him trailing after you like you shit rainbows, then we expect you to be the one to comfort him when he cries, capiche?”

“I… He’s not  _ crying _ ,” Richard stuttered, for lack of anything better to say.

“It’s your deal, Richard. Go chase him into the rain or whatever it is you two do, but don’t expect us to be the one to clean up his messes.”

“I don’t know why anyone has to deal with it at all,” Richard exclaimed. “If everyone just pulls their own then he won’t be stressed, and no one has to deal with anything!”

“Fine,” Gilfoyle said, “We’ll start doing more to help him out, but someone has to deal with him  _ right now _ .”

“Yeah,” Erlich nods. “As much as I loathe to admit it, everyone deserves someone to reassure them when they freak out. Even people like Jared.”

Richard considered snapping at Erlich for insinuating that Richard was somehow different than them, but he held his tongue. Instead he just let out another sigh and nodded.

“You’re right, okay? You’re right. I’ll just, call him. Or something.”

“Just go outside and talk to him, man,” Dinesh said, tilting his head toward the front door. “He’s standing on the porch.”

“What?” Richard asked, surprised. “I thought he left.”

“You have his car keys, fucktard,” Erlich pointed out, jabbing a finger at the Chevy Volt keys on the countertop where Richard had set them upon returning from his meeting with Ron LaFlamme.

“Fuck,” Richard hissed, ducking his head and darting out the front door after Jared.

Outside, Richard nearly tripped over Jared, who hadn’t made it far and was sitting on the single step outside the house. His shoulders were hunched and his head in his hands. Richard let out a surprised noise as he avoided stepping on the other man, which startled Jared, causing him to twist around and blink at Richard with watery eyes.

“Jared, hey, I didn’t-- I almost--”

“I’m sorry,” Jared blurted out. “I didn’t mean to say any of that. I’m so terribly sorry, and ashamed, and--”

“No, Jared, hey,” Richard placated, quickly sitting beside Jared on the step and turning toward him. “Don’t apologize. You’re right. You do work harder than any of us, and we appreciate it even if it doesn’t seem like it sometimes. You don’t need to feel bad about anything you said.”

“I…” Jared began, but he fell quiet soon after. He watched Richard carefully, sniffling every now and again. He wasn’t crying, but the threat was there and Richard was willing to do anything to stop it from happening.

Richard tried to think about what his mother would do in this situation, but kissing Jared’s forehead didn’t seem appropriate at the moment. So, instead, Richard thought about what Jared would do if it were Richard sitting anxiously on the front steps, and that produced a much more effective procedure.

“Stay here,” Richard requested, rising carefully to his feet. “I’ll be right back.”

Jared watched Richard disappear into the house, turning forward to watch the street once he had gone. He wiped his eyes in Richard’s absence, and returned to his previous position. Jared hoped to garner some comfort from wrapping his arms around his stomach, but all he felt was the continuing anxiety. Richard was going to fire him, going to yell at him, hate him. He had lost his chances.

But when Richard returned it wasn’t with harsh words. It was with a tall glass of ice water, and a soft smile. He sat beside Jared on the steps once more and handed him the glass. Jared took it apprehensively.

“We take you for granted, Jared. And we’re sorry. Or, well, I’m sorry. Everyone else is an asshole and probably doesn’t even know  _ how  _ to feel sorry.”

Jared made a choking noise, somewhere deep inside his throat, and stiffened a bit. He set the glass down on the steps and wrapped his arms around his stomach once more before stuttering out a quiet, “Thank you.”

Richard moved slowly, reaching his hand out before snatching it back to his chest. Finally he plucked up the courage to lay his palm flat against Jared’s spine. Jared twitched beneath his touch before leaning in ever so slightly.

Richard pretended he couldn’t hear the soft, whimpering noises Jared emanated as he continued to rub his palm along Jared’s back. Jared tried desperately to recall the last time someone had comforted him so sincerely. When he found he couldn’t, he only sobbed harder. Richard continued his ministrations and didn’t ask him not to cry. Sometimes the only way to feel better was to feel absolutely awful first. 

-

Jared kept the poker chip Richard had thrown away so angrily. It fit nicely in his wallet, and he didn’t leave the house without it. For Jared it wasn’t so much a good luck charm as a reminder of Richard.

And Jared liked to remember Richard as often as he could.

-

The evening before Pied Piper’s trial against Hooli found Richard and Jared beside the pool, an open bottle of wine in Richard’s hand. He didn’t drink out a glass, instead just taking long swigs straight from the neck of the bottle. The first time Richard offered the bottle to Jared he denied it. The second time Richard offered he took a hesitant sip.

They were now three quarters through the bottle, and there was no hesitation in Jared’s movements.

They hadn’t spoken much. Richard had been content with the silence for a while, but after so long it became somewhat suffocating.

“Well, tomorrow,” Richard said, because he didn’t know what else to say.

“Yep. Tomorrow,” Jared agreed. He didn’t have the energy to prepare something encouraging or motivating to sooth Richard’s nerves. He didn’t have the energy for much of anything anymore.

“It kind of feels like the world is ending,” Richard said, mostly to himself, but partially to Jared as well. There was something about talking to Jared that made him feel safe, like he could say anything and it would be okay.

Jared watched Richard, studied the slope of his nose and the dark circles under his eyes. He knew what he wanted to say, and if he was anyone else he may have said it without needing encouragement. But because he was Jared, and because anxiety was hardwired into his brain, he took a long drink of wine and a deep breath before speaking.

“Well, if this is the end of the world then I’m glad I’m sitting here, beside you.”

Jared heard Richard suck in a sharp intake of breath and then exhale it slowly through his nose. They both stared forward, hearts in their throats.

“Jared,” Richard said softly. “I’m going to kiss you now.” 

“ _ Yes _ ,” Jared breathed, and though it was hardly a proper answer, it still felt right. Like he was accepting something wonderful, something he’d wanted for ages.

When Richard kissed him it was soft, and warm, and kind. It was exhilarating and intoxicating and Jared couldn’t help but feel lucky, in every sense of the word.

And Richard, well, Richard felt lucky too. But not because of any charm. Not because of any trinket in his pocket, or ticket stub in his wallet. No, Richard felt lucky because he realized that there wasn’t anything in the world that can make everything go right forever. But there are people out there, people who love him, that can make things better for at least a little while. 

And sitting beside Jared Dunn, on the unluckiest night of his life, kissing the most beautiful person he knew, Richard considered that maybe he had found the charm he was looking for.

**Author's Note:**

> Come join me on [Tumblr](http://red-0ak-tree.tumblr.com/) for Silicon Valley shenanigans!


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